The FMA Soap Opera
by Seto's Darkness
Summary: The FMA Soap Opera. Romance and betrayal, deception and backstabbing, plot twists brought to a whole different level. Love is shown… in its most beautiful and imperfect form. [AU EnvyEd RoyEd]


**Prompt**: 16candles, number 15, Fluttering Flame

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

**Warnings: **Yaoi. Shounen-Ai. EnvyEd. Some RoyEd. Accepts pairing requests. Other sidepairings. Language. Plot twists. AU. OOCness? And um, yeah. Basically soap-opera-ish XD;;

**Authoresses' Notes:** Sorry for the delay. Announcements and explanations at my profile page :) Thanks to everybody who email-ed, PM'd, IM'd me. Special thanks to: _StarsofYaoi, Wing It, Gonrie_ and _Konoko89_ for giving suggestions, opinions and criticisms on my fics and plot bunnies :D

**Promotions: **Please join the C2 for the OTP in Naruto: SasuNaru and NaruSasu: _SasuNaru Shounen ai and Yaoi Heaven_. Please join _my_ forum for Filipino yaoi-shounen-ai enthusiasts. Links are **on my profile**.

**Important**: Pride will refer to Pride!Ed (from BBI); Fuhrer King Bradley will be a separate entity. However, you don't need to know about BBI in this story. Just know that, in the first scene, **Pride!Ed is Al's brother**.

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* * *

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There were three children who lingered around the green-covered soil, and there were smiles on their faces. They were happy—their tinkering laughs and bright grins sparkling almost as bright the sun. Almost, but not quite.

There was one, however, whose eyes simply looked dazzling enough to rival the summer sun's rays. A couple of meters away from the three young children, an observer, who wasn't really much older than them, was contented with watching the way _that_ young one's amber-hued irises sparkled like the sunshine that bathed them.

He could hear the way they laughed at each other—filled with such innocent, uncaring happiness.

"Hey, Al, do you want a flower bath?"

"What? Winry—Ahhhh!"

"Al—I… never thought… you'd look like that… with… flowers on… your head…"

"Help me, big brother!"

"If you help him, Pride, you'll end up with a makeover too!"

The young blonde girl—Winry—dumped a couple of flowers atop Al's hair, cheerfully ignoring the boy's indignant squawk. Al continued to plea for help and salvation from the girl's attack; Pride—the elder brother, who was suspiciously shorter—continued to laugh, all the while pointing at his younger brother.

They were so happy, and the observer couldn't help but feel a mixture of jealousy and amusement. His mother was yet to snatch him away from the scene of sunshine and brightness. He looked down at his lanky, pale arms that possessed so much unimaginable strength. He was too pale, too lifeless-looking, compared to the tanned, golden children he was watching.

His unnaturally-colored eyes were focused on only one person amongst the carefree-looking kids, though. Purple eyes scrutinized the long cascade of gold that sat atop the blond's head, flowing down like rivers of silk to tanned shoulders. Golden-colored eyes looked blank and hollow, but entrancing on their own accord. Pride looked like a freakin' girl, but then again, _he_ also looked liked one—according to others.

He raised a pale hand towards his equally pale neck, rubbing at a spot. Fingers brushed against emerald-colored hair, and he felt an odd surge of fluttering warmth as he gazed unwaveringly at Pride.

His mother always spoke of Al and Pride in hatred-laced words—but she seemed especially livid at Pride. He couldn't see anything wrong with the young male though—he looked beautiful, in an almost-otherworldly manner. The only thing that he found strange was the halting speech patterns.

He felt that jolt of flutter on his chest, on the upper-left side, more precisely—a touch that was like the softest flicker of butterflies' wings; a touch that was as strong as the strength hidden deep inside of him.

He caught a glimpse of those entrancing orbs again, and he felt an uncommon heat creep up to his alabaster cheeks. It wasn't that hot, was it? Why did he suddenly feel too _warm_?

"Brother!"

"Come back here, Al!"

"Winry… I think… you… should… stop…"

Pride was now standing between the blonde (who was carrying more flowers and weeds to dump on Al) and his younger brother. The smile was now gone from Pride's face, and it was replaced with a blank, almost forlorn look that was very familiar to the observer.

"Envy," A sophisticated voice suddenly called out the watcher's name, and a woman slowly walked towards the pale child. The emerald-haired boy gazed at his mother with acknowledgement, before shifting violet eyes towards the captivating blond.

"Envy, let's go," The woman, also possessing the strangely-colored eyes like her son, beckoned her child to come with her. Envy fixed Pride one last glance, and followed his mother.

Pride didn't seem to have noticed, but Envy's mother surely did.

Envy's gaze was filled with longing and the flutter of emotion, much like the rarity of true gentleness of the world.

_The blossoming love was like a flutter of the candle's warm flames.

* * *

_

**The FMA Soap Opera**

**Episode 1: All I Want Is Everything

* * *

**

The large mansion seemed like paradise to most people that went inside. After all, it was littered with well-known paintings, sparkling decors, grand staircases, lush gardens. That was understandable, because people usually perceive wrongly if they're unable to fully understand the depths of something they admired.

The shallow-minded and hollow-worded classmates and acquaintances that visited the grand mansion belonging to Dante da Rimini never saw past (_or rather, they never tried to see all the other signs of obscure hatred and transcending misery_)the lavish decorations and sophisticated conversations.

The air inside the grand ballroom that hosted too many parties and gatherings felt cold and pallid—morose and corpse-like, but Envy lived here for eighteen years already—the desolating and infuriating quality of the atmosphere was something that he simply ignored now.

"Yes, that's it, Envy—now you see how _vile _and wretched your father really is," Dante's voice sounded smooth and velvety, but her violet eyes were hard and stern. If one looked closely, the edges of her carefully-made-up lips were upturned and twisted into something like a smile—only embittered with a sword's edge.

He _heard_ this little speech ever since he could remember, but the frequency of just hearing it once a day increased to five times a day since last week. Envy, as much of a genius as he was, already knew that something's up—unless his _mother_ suddenly evolved a liking to angsting and recalling that she was dumped for some other woman.

It was pathetic really—but Envy could never say that out loud, not because he was terrified of his mother, but because he also harbored a feeling of betrayal and anger towards his father. At first, it was some heartbroken childish respect that was betrayed, but over the years of hearing Dante's lectures and being disgusted by most humans, it drove deeper into his blackened heart—and developed into something more sinister, something more unforgiving.

"Yes, _yes,_ I know it all, Old Hag," Envy muttered loud enough for his ruffles-and-lace-dressed mother to hear. She let out an uncharacteristic snort, but didn't chide her son. She, as well, was already used to the snide nature of the green-haired teen.

"Well then, I have something that you don't know, my son," Dante said levelly, her words sounding harmless, but Envy knew his mother too much to be fooled. It gave him violent mental shivers whenever he heard Dante call him her son. He expressed his displeasure at being reminded that she was his son by snarling wrathfully at her.

Dante ignored his anger. "Hohenheim, Trisha, Pride and Al are going to live in this city; they just finished moving-in yesterday," The ebony-haired woman said calmly, but she wasn't even halfway with her sentence, when Envy punched the precious, polished floors of her ballroom.

She held up a white-gloved hand, an effort to stall Envy's rampage—and save her beloved room.

"And I want you to break Pride's heart," Dante added, watching with satisfaction as the _rightful_ son, named after a Sin, smirked cruelly, violet eyes dancing with anticipation for the long-sought revenge.

* * *

He supposed he was 'normal' enough. He wanted to be normal. Yes, that's right—he want**ed** to be normal. As time passed though, he discovered things that made him question his wants to become normal, just like the rest of the civilization that went on with their lives, not even blinking to ask if the teen with hard, purple eyes was feeling okay.

He graduated top of his class; he was accelerated, but he still was the top of his class. He was sent all over the world—and he was still the top student. He was great with sports—he led the basketball, soccer, baseball, swimming and tennis teams. He was extremely strong; he was never beaten in any type of a fight, be it a petty brawl or a martial-arts training.

He was wealthy, gorgeous, witty, sexy—the dream guy of a lot of girls. His fashion sense was unconventional, but he never needed to follow society's pesky rules to be the best.

After feeling the immense pleasure of being _better_ than all the others—he never wanted to be normal again. It was absolutely delightful to find all his acquaintances worshipping him and backstabbing him and envying him—because he was good.

It felt weird, at first—being the topic of everybody's adoration and envy. But the past didn't matter now—all the things in the past were buried, except for his unending vengeance against Hohenheim.

Even the thought of that uncommon name was enough to spark wrath inside of him, so he diverted his thoughts, because he didn't think the university would appreciate it if he broke their walls _again_.

Not that he really cared what the university or these humans thought of him, but it would be easier on him if he could carefully, stealthily come out of nowhere and crush that feminine-looking Pride's heart.

It wasn't obvious, to Envy, yet, but Pride's appearance gave his life a new meaning.

* * *

_If, if, if it's not forbidden,_

_I'll do anything; give anything, just to be with you.

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_

White light illuminated the room, making the still-unpacked bags and boxes visible, along with the just-ironed set of uniform on the bouncy bed. Two brothers were doing their best to finish unpacking by tonight, but it seemed that it's just an unreachable dream.

"Ne, brother, do you want to stop now? We still have classes tomorrow…" A teen with slightly messy mop of sandy-brown hair suggested, trailing off thoughtfully at the end of his statement. Brown eyes regarded his brother, who now sported a bright grin.

"Finally! I thought you'd never get tired of unpacking!" Edward Elric exclaimed, stretching tanned arms upwards, getting rid of the non-existent kinks. "Boy, I'm beat!"

Alphonse Elric frowned at his older, and _shorter_, brother. "It's not like you helped much!"

Ed waved his hands dismissively, a bit guilty at not helping much, but feeling incredibly lazy that he couldn't really force himself to do some work.

This was like a routine already, because their father, Hohenheim, was always moving around, thanks to his top-secret work. Ed already decided that his father must work in some lab or something, if the utmost secrecy was any clue.

Their caring mother, Trisha, was still bedridden on the local hospital, all due to an unfortunate car accident.

_Car accident..._

Ed suddenly stood up, before the nervousness and tension snapped away.

"Brother?" Al questioned worriedly.

Ed wiped off the expression on his face. The thought of the 'car accident' always gave him chills, and he strained to remember something important. He always felt as though something was reaching out to him, something that he needed to remember, but he only got headaches whenever he thought of those.

"Ah, it's nothing," Edward said dismissively, busying himself by helping Al arrange their stuff.

The expression inside Ed's amber eyes told Al that it wasn't just nothing.

* * *

Ed was already used to welcomes and friendly speeches about his introduction to class. They moved a lot, after all.

He was asked to sit beside a Winry Rockbell and a Rose Thomas. They looked friendly enough, so Edward gave them a tentative smile.

Okay, so Winry was rather volatile, and Rose was rather meek. But it was the first buds of friendship, and Ed felt like he could belong in this city.

Ed wondered, as he listened to their teacher, if Al found friends as well.

* * *

Violet eyes followed the new student.

His heart fluttered inside his rib cage. Edward Elric.

Unbelievably short, and unbelievably like a person from his distant past. Like the person he was tasked to break.

Pride.

Envy wondered, fleetingly, why did their parents adore naming their children with Sin's names. It made them unique, yes, but Envy wanted to think that he was the one envied, rather than the other way around.

Edward Elric looked like Pride.

The few memories Envy had of Pride told him that the golden-haired twit spoke as though he was always stammering. Edward wasn't like that, as proven by his childish outburst when somebody loudly commented about his shorter-than-normal height.

Edward Elric couldn't be Pride, Envy decided.

Right?

* * *

There was a loud crash. Blinding light filtered his eyes. There were cries, cries that were pleading for help, for salvation. There were noisy screeches of tires against the road.

There were hands that fumbled to hold him. He felt numb. There was something sticky, something warm, that was trickling from his forehead.

His long, golden hair was matted to his face and neck. Somebody was calling his name, loudly, desperately. He couldn't open his heavy eyes.

He felt his heart struggling, before it wound down to a definite slow beating. He felt tired, heavy. Somebody was pulling at his wounded arms.

"Pride!"

He heard that voice, of an old man, calling out his name, as though telling him to not forget. His name was Pride.

It was a couple of hours before he was able to open his eyes, the blood already wiped away. His hands were devoid of scrapes and scars. His female-looking hair was tied into a lopsided braid.

"W-who?" He asked, his voice unlike the calm tone before. He sounded louder, cheerier, younger. More innocent. More childish.

The old man's glasses glinted against the bright lights. He found himself seated in a hospital bed.

The old man's voice sounded the same as before.

"Your name is Edward Elric."

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**To Be Continued**

Confused? Yeah, me too :D The style is like a couple of scenarios strung together—this is the prologue—and it's supposed to be confusing as all hell—as well as hinting about the events that'd happen later on.

Dedicated to Wing It because you said you liked TV-soap-operas; to StarsofYaoi because of the wonderful EnvyEd DJ you sent to me :D

Re: Dante da Rimini – Surname taken from Francesca da Ramini – the example in Dante's _Divine Comedy_ about the Second Circle of Hell: Lust. It's just a little extra, which would be important later on :P All right, I actually _planned_ this carefully! XD;;

**Please review** XD


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